Dream A Dream Of Nightmares
by AlphaWolfOfRed67
Summary: Dean's always been there to comfort Sam whenever he had a nightmare or was hurt. When Dean has a nightmare its Sam's turn to play big brother. Episode Tag- 11x17 Red Meat
1. Chapter 1

Dean's always been the one there, comforting Sam when he had a nightmare or was hurt. When Dean has a bad nightmare its Sam's turn to play big brother. Tag- 11x17 Red Meat

A/N: Will be 2 Chapters! Omg I can't believe I wrote ANOTHER friggin tag for this episode. I am so sorry. But that was an emotional episode. I might do more tags for earlier episode. PM me if there is a particular episode you would like a tag for!

 ** _Disclaimer_** \- I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester...blah blah...blah. Blah. Seriously?

* * *

Sam shifted in his seat every five minutes as the discomfort from his fresh shot wound sent pains crawling up his spine if he set still for to long. Even though it was no longer bleeding thanks to the care at the center, and past being life threatening, the bandages wrapped firmly around his abdominal and enough pain killers to last him weeks, it still felt like a dozen tiny knives were being jabbed into his skin over and over again. With each unnecessary move he made came with a rather nasty jostle to the wound that had him wincing and automatically letting out a slow breath. He closed his eyes and just focused on the familiar rumble of the impala and the soft rock and roll playing through the speakers. He had his head laid against the glass in an effort to feel some kind of coolness.

"You okay?" Dean's voice came from the drivers side, laced with concern.

Sam cracked one eye open to peer at his brother, who had turned the music completely off and was eyeing him worriedly. "I'm fine. Just still hurts."

"You sure? Because man, the last twenty-four hours were a bitch. I wouldn't give you lip if you feel like stopping for the night." Dean asked without really forming the question, his eyes going from Sam, to the road and back to Sam.

To say Sam didn't look like death warmed over would be like saying one hundred mile winds couldn't do damage. When in fact, was a lie because Sam's face still carried that pale shaded color and sweat was still glistening on his forehead. Dean knew it was because Sam was still in pain. If by the way Sam continued to shift positions and wincing every time he found the wrong angle was any proof of that. Who wouldn't be after getting shot, having the bullet removed, bleeding profoundly and still finding the strength to take out three werewolves before dragging his wounded ass from the cabin to the care center? Oh, and lets not forget the whole reason Sammy had been believed to be dead in the first place. The whole Corbin thing that Dean didn't have a clue about until after the doctors had tended to his wounded brother and informed him that Sam would be just fine after a good two weeks rest. She made it very clear, however, that due to the bruising on Sam's neck and how his close encounter with death came a bit to close, that he would be very sore and would have to drink plenty of water or his throat would be a little raw.

Dean's anger went borderline. Every ounce of emotion he had been feeling since discovery his brothers broken body on the cabin floor was already threatening to take him under, only being repressed when he found out Sam wasn't dead. That didn't mean they completely went away even though his brother was still breathing because it had been to close. Way to close and those emotions were still there. Seeing Sam laying on the floor, his head turned away from Dean's direction, one hand laying limp against his chest that wasn't raising and falling like it should have been, was an image that still haunted his weary mind. Even now, with Sam by his side, a little worse for wear, but clearly still here, he still couldn't stop that image from plaguing his mind.

Then he found out what really happened while he went out to build a litter for Sam. The feeling or sorrow he still felt for seeing Sam on that grimy floor, to still, to pale, was replaced with a blinding rage. He suddenly felt the need to fill Corbin's dead corpse with every single unused bullet in his guns chamber for what he had done to Sam.

* * *

 _"Wait, come again?" Dean's eyes were drawn together in confusion, his mouth in a straight line as he eyed the doctor with demanding eyes._

 _Mrs. Kessler sighed, her gaze was sorrowful. Their was a deep apology in them that she didn't state out loud but there was also pity, too. "I'm sorry. Your brother was choked to death, in a sense."_

 _Dean's form faltered slightly. He gave a short laugh of disbelief, his teeth showing as he tried to say something, tried to form some kind of word but he was frozen. All he could do was frown and try and keep his composure when tears suddenly threatened to form in his eyes._

 _"Sam will have light bruising on his neck. The pressure must have been quite harsh but in a way it saved his life. Whoever attempted to choke him didn't count on the fact that some cases do die but others are lucky enough to escape that. Their body goes into a deep shock to where their breathing will slow to the point its barely there. The pulse will also drop to a point you'd have to leave your hand on a pulse point for well over a minute to feel it."_

 _Dean swallowed. His anger spiked, his body was tense as he clenched his hand into a fist so tight it turned his knuckles white. Sam, his brother who he left alone, dying, NOT dead, had been strangled by the very victim they saved. "You're telling me that, that son of a bitch tried to kill Sam?" He asked, his tone dangerously low._

 _The doctor reeled back a little at the sudden anger coming off the man in waves but nodded her head because past all the aggression he was probably holding was so many more emotions that weren't hard to see. "I'm sorry. The good news is that Sam will make a full recovery. The gun shot wound was bad but thanks to quick thinking on your part it wasn't near as bad as most. The only concern was the amount of blood he lost." She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. "If you hadn't taken the bullet out and wrapped it in bandages then it would have been alot worse. Your brother owes you his life."_

 _Dean blinked. Though he still had a active volcano going off in his head, threatening to just spill over and destroy everything in it's path, the words, 'Sam,' 'Full recovery,' and 'near as bad' caused him to breath a deep sigh of relief that Sam was going to be okay. "Thank god. Can I see him?" He asked the doctor calmly but their was desperation his the question, desperation to see for himself that his little brother was alive and well._

 _She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before bringing her hand back down to her side. "Of course. I'm sure he's waiting on you. Been saying your name quite a bit after he came out of recovery."_

 _Dean gave his own smile of gratitude. "That's Sammy. One tough son of a bitch." He had a hint of pride in his voice._

 _She nodded in agreement. "Come on. I think your brother wants to see you."_

 _Dean didn't need to be told twice. He followed the doctor down the hall towards the room his brother occupied._

* * *

Sam watched Dean out of the corner of his eyes. He took in Dean's appearance.

He didn't notice before, when he arrived at the care center to save Dean from a wolfed out Corbin. He was to focused on just getting to Dean in time that after he had shot Corbin all the adrenaline that took over his body faded away to nothing and was once again replaced with agonizing pain. His vision had got cloudy and he fell to the floor with a grunt, not even a few seconds after and the frantic call of his name before he succumbed to darkness all together.

Only waking up later on in a recovery room where he immediately found Dean at his side, worry lines and all. He was to shot up with medication that he couldn't keep his eyes open more than a minute before they closed again despite his will to stay awake. Before oblivion claimed him he did hear Dean's voice.

"Go to sleep, Sammy. I'll be here when you wake up." A voice that held so much love and comfort that Sam wondered just what all had happened before he passed out in the cabin but that was a thought that was lost with his consciousness once again.

That was where Sam found his brother once again when he woke up for good. Dean, at his side, his arms crossed as he set in a chair with his chin resting against his steadily falling chest. Fast asleep but not for long. As soon as Sam was awake and alert it was as if the air shifted and changed because Dean's eyes snapped open and he was instantly relieved at seeing Sam awake.

Sam knew something was wrong.

So when he was finally discharged and able to leave the first thing he did was question his brother.

 _"So what did you do? When you thought I was dead?"_ It was more of a statement than a question because Sam knew Dean and but what lengths he would go for him.

Dean just made a comment about re-arranging his room but Sam could see the slight flinch Dean made as soon as he asked. His brother didn't show any evidence in his features or posture that he had thought Sam was dead.

 _"I knew you wasn't dead."_ That was Dean's answer, a matter of fact, as he started the car and tore out of the lot.

Sam's not stupid. You could cover up emotions easily enough but there was one thing you couldn't always bury within four walls. The eyes were the window of the soul, Sam's heard it his whole life and looking into Dean's green orbs was like looking into a brightly lit hallway. He could see everything. He saw the depth of pain they carried and it made him shudder.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, man. I think we should stop for the night. I'm exhausted and so are you."

Dean was looking at the road but brought his attention back to Sam. He smirked. "I'm good, Sammy. You though? I gotta say you'll have to get at least a week of proper beauty sleep. You're a wreck."

Sam snorted, he shifted again, this time tuned slightly towards Dean's direction, who was watching the road again. "Shut up, jerk."

A smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth. "Make me, bitch."

Sam still eyed Dean wearily. Something wasn't right. Dean's shoulders were tense, his jaw was clenched and the way he gripped the steering wheel was enough force of a snake squeezing the life out of its meal. He wanted to question his brother, demand that he tell him the truth but he knew pushing Dean when he didn't want to be pushed could have harsh consequences. He dealt with his emotions differently than Sam or even their father. Dean always kept them buried deep under the surface as a way to cope with them or just not deal with them at all. Sam knows first hand the wrath Dean unleashed when those emotions were brought up and came to the surface.  
He was on the receiving end of quite a few of his brothers punches as a result.

But Sam couldn't help but feel something was seriously wrong and he definitely wanted to push.

"Here. Lets call it a night." Dean bent his head down slightly, his eyes going to the well lit sign for a motel residence.

Sam followed his line of sight and had to bit back a groan and eye roll at the name that brightly blinked in a ray of colors of the motel Dean was now pulling in to. "Seriously? Dreamstate Motel? Who names a motel Dreamstate?"

Dean pulled up to the front entrance and put the car in park but didn't shut the engine off. "Apparently, not everyone can pick cool names. Crappy name with crappy motel. Seems about right." He patted Sam's shoulder playfully but the grin Dean gave didn't reach his ears like it usually did.

"Dean-" Sam was about to ask his brother what happened back at the care center but was interrupted by the squeak of the car door and Dean's, "Be right back."

Sam sighed and shook his head. His brother always knew how to avoid something he didn't want to face. He was stubborn and always held his guard no matter what situation he was in. When it came to Sam, he put on his game face and acted like nothing bothered him. When Sam questioned it, well Dean always smiled and either said, "I'm Fine, drop it Sammy," or "Nothing's wrong, quit asking."

Each time Sam would be disappointed. Dean was always there for him but why was it, when Dean was hurting or was trying to hide something, whenever Sam offered his own comfort and support, his brother would shrug him off everytime? Why was it that he couldn't be there as well as he should be? Even if Dean pushed him away with each effort he gave why didn't he push just a little bit harder?

He knew Dean didn't do it because he hated Sam. No, Dean would do anything for him and has done more than he should on a number of occasions. Whether it was because Dean simply didn't want to be alone or that Sam just couldn't die, Dean saved him so many times and it was the same verse everytime.

 _"I couldn't let you die."_

 _"I can't live with you dead."_

 _"Don't get mad at me, Sammy..."_

Sam had vowed to save Dean from the fate that awaited him because of the deal he made, because of him. He tried everything he could think of to free Dean from the contract that would send him to hell but no matter how much he tried, or begged, or cried, no demon would deal. Little by little Sam felt himself dying with the fact that no matter what he did Dean was on a one way ticket down to hell and that it wouldn't have happened if not for his stupid back at cold oak. If he hadn't been so trusting and turned his back on Jake he wouldn't have ended up with a knife to the back or a devastated Dean who couldn't come to terms that Sam was just gone. If it hadn't been for him...Dean would have never known the pain of being tortured for fourty years without end and forced to make a choice. Either he stayed on the rack to be cut, burned, flayed over and over again or he accepts becoming the one thing he hated most. A monster. As long as he agreed to torture souls then he would be free of the rack and free of the pain but that did a whole new number on Dean.

Dean fought tooth and nail for forty years but when the pain became to much he agreed to the terms.

Sam never thought different of him.

Dean held on for forty years and that was more than most people could ever hold out. No ones perfect and there is a time when a human soul will break under the pressure of unbelievable pain. Whether it be emotional or physical. Everyone breaks at some point. Dean is no different and Sam didn't hate him for making the choice he had. Yet somehow Dean managed to hate himself enough for the both of them.

Sam didn't know how to comfort him. Not really. He listened as Dean confessed, how he without hesitation took the offer to get off the rack and torture souls the same way he had been tortured, listened how with each cut or burn he made onto them that he broke a little more every time. He listened as Dean, his unbreakable, strong brother, cried tears of sorrow for what he had done in hell and all Sam could think was how it was his fault for the pain Dean was feeling now.

The door opening brought him out of his revine of deep thought and he watched as Dean climbed back in. He threw the keys at Sam who caught them easily.

"140." He stated and pulled the car around and into an unoccupied parking space before cutting the engine off and once again getting out of the car.

Sam grabbed the handle and opened the door. He threw his to long legs from the car and on the ground and winced as his wound protested at the movement. It sent a light pain up his side and he resisted the erge to moan.

He was grateful a moment later when Dean was at his side and helping him out of the car. Sam wasn't completely helpless but the wound was still fresh and it throbbed mercifully with each tug to the stitches when ever he moved the wrong way or twisted around without thinking.

Dean made sure Sam wasn't going to tip over and possibly fall on his face before he decided to go back to grabbing the bags from the trunk.

Sam waited until Dean had the bags in hand and shut the hood before walking to their room number. He unlocked the door and walked in, Dean right behind him and shutting the door. Both boys seemed to sigh as they entered the cool room and allowed their exhausted limbs to finally get their way. Dean fell back clumsily on the bed closest to the door where Sam took the bed nearest to the wall and slowly laid back as well.

They both just laid there for several minutes before Dean finally broke the silence and set up with a displeased moan. "Gotta shower. I call it first. You always use all the hot water."

"Knock yourself out man." Sam waved a hand through the air. He wasn't really feeling up to taking a shower at the moment.

Dean shrugged and stood up. He went to the bags that he had dropped immediately on the floor as soon as he was in the room and dug out a fresh change of clothes.

Sam heard the door shut with a soft click, later hearing the sound of running water and allowed his eyes to close. His body hurt. He was exhausted and his mind wouldn't leave him alone as it continued to think, think and think. Think about the werewolves, about Corbin and how he almost died, again, about what happened while he was unconscious and what Dean might have done. All these thoughts ran through his mind without mercy but even has worried about Dean as he was the exhaustion won over his thoughts.

He started to doze off and soon he was fast asleep with the sound of the water still running to drown out any other noise.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So I suck at nightmare fics haha oh well. Either way, ill be writing more often then I used to. I enjoy it quite a bit honestly whether I'm a good writer or suck so bad that first sentence makes ya push that back button LOL

Thanks for following it or fav'ing it! An especially thanks two the lovely reviews it got. Thanks guys!

* * *

Dean shut the door with a soft click. He sighed now that he was alone and Sam wasn't able to see his face as it crumbled. His calm expression turned into a image of pained features but it wasn't that of injured limbs or headaches. No, it was the inner ache of emotions that once again came to the surface and threatened to drown them in their aggression. He was able to keep his 'game face' on despite all the feelings that were running wild in his mind and chest as they drove far away from the care center, away from the twenty-four hours of misery he found himself in, and to a motel much farther away. Although he told Sam he was fine, that was just one more lie to add up to the crap load of other lies in the Winchester's life. Now, alone in a bathroom without a little brother constantly eyeing him with that familiar worry in his questioning gaze, his was the perfect frame of not fine.

He wasn't fine.

He never was when he had watch his little brother die.

Dean walked over to the shower and turned it on. He felt the water as it went from cold to an almost scolding hot against his skin. He wasted no time in taking off his dirty shirt and pants before climbing in and the feel of the water against his aching body was like heaven as it slowly drew the tension out of his sore muscles. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to simply relax against its soft touch. He lifted his head up so that the water didn't touch his face but rolled in fast waves down the length of his slim yet built tan body.

He just stood there, lost in his own mindful thoughts so long that the water had lost its warmth and was quickly being replaced with coolness. Dean turned the knob until it was nothing more than a slow drip. He didn't care that he wasn't able to fully clean himself of the filth and grime. The water had done most of that but, he wasn't sure that it was the dirt he wanted to wash clean. Maybe it was the evidence of his over dose that he wanted to clean from sight or the image of a dead Sam from his mind. Either way, he wanted to forget everything. He wanted to erase the images away that projected over and over, he wanted to forget that Sam had found the case in the first place and he wanted to forget all the guilt he was feeling for leaving Sam alone. So many things, he wished he could forget.

Dean got out. He grabbed the white towel that hung up on the wall. He wrapped it around his mid section and just stood in front of the mirror. The evidence of his over dose was right there on his chest. A small round puncture wound stood out clear on his chest. Right over his heart. Dean touched it and winced as the littlest pressure still hurt. It was warm, warmer than any other part of Dean's skin.

He knew what it meant. Even though it was his intention, he knew his heart had stopped and doctors only stuck a needle through your chest in a last effort to jump start your heart. At the time Dean didn't care. There was only one thing on his mind. His own death meant so little to him when it came to saving Sam. He didn't think, he acted on pure instinct and pain alone. There was no Dean if there was no Sam.

A line Dean had told Sam once before and he meant it to its very meaning.

Man, the lengths i'd go for you, for dad...it scares me.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sammy. Not if there was a way he could save him. There was only one time that Dean had actually let Sam's death be. Back when the apocalypse ran a mess thanks to both Sam and Dean's decisions, back when trust was more of a heavy burden and things sprawled so much out of control. Their bind was tested then. Everything that Dean knew so well, 'protect Sammy', his belief that angels didn't exist, had changed so drastically. Even though he questioned his brothers faith, his humanity and their fathers words repeated even years after his death, 'Kill Sam or save him', Dean still couldn't turn his brother away. He's tried. God knows he tried. He was the one who decided they pick a hemisphere because Dean couldn't, wouldn't watch as Sam destroyed himself, lost himself in the darkness that somehow, during Dean's time in hell, had wrapped around his brother. Instead of Dean, the one person that Sam always counted on, that darkness was instead what Sam clung to in those harsh months of his absence. Then Lucifer risen from the cage in a show of blinding light and earth shaking. The fear that the end was near became the reality they lived in. Still, after everything was done, Dean couldn't turn his back on Sam.

After his trip to the future, that was clear. That, Sam depended on him and needed him just as much as Dean needed and depended on Sam. He got a first look at what his decision to leave Sam would do to the time to come. Sam may have fell far off the path of right, but it was Dean who pushed him in the direction of the finish line. Saying they were better off apart was like telling Sam that Dean just didn't want him around, didn't trust him. It was an open invitation that Dean no longer wanted anything to do with Sam. Which is how his brother took it.

Dean took a deep breath, willing the past memories to go away. "Come on, Dean. Focus man. Can't let Sammy see you like this." He scolded himself for his weakness.

He quickly got into his change of clothes before opening the door and walking out. He smirked at the sight of his brother, long legs dangling off the side of bed, his mouth open and eyes closed which meant Sam was out like a light.

Dean walked over to Sam's bag. He dug around in it until he found what he was looking for. "Yahtzee." He took it from the bag and walked back over to Sam's bed.

He gently shook Sam's shoulder. "No sleeping yet, Sammy. Come on."

Sam seemed to refuse to wake up since his eyes decided to stay closed but he did mumble something that sounded like, "...'ts Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You'll always be Sammy to me sasquatch. Now up!" He smacked Sam's shoulder, not hard to enough to make Sam flinch in his sleep.

Sam moaned in displeasure at being woken up but eventually cracked an eye open and focused on Dean who was holding out a bottle of pills. He recognized them as the one the doctor gave him for pain. "Seriously? I'm fine Dean. Just let me sleep." He stated trying to roll over on his side which caused another moan to escape his throat at the unwanted movement to his wound.

Dean shook his head at Sam's reluctance. He was used to Sam's mood whenever he got woken up from a deep slumber. "Hey, princess. Take them. Now." His demand held finality.

Sam sighed but slowly set up and grabbed the offered pills. "Fine."

Dean smiled in satisfaction. "Good." He walked away only to return a minute later with a glass of water in hand.

"Thanks." Sam mumbled and downed three of the pills. He set the glass on the table and carefully scooted back on the bed until he was in the middle and laid back down.

"That should help with the pain. Get some rest." Dean ordered without any real authority.

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He was already starting to lightly snore as sleep once again took him under minutes later but he managed to say, "You to Dean," before hand.

Dean sank down on the comfortable bed. He debated whether or not to take a few of those pills as well but decided against it as Sam would most definitely need them. Plus, he was sure with the amount of pills he ingested not six hours before did major damage to his insides. Taking anymore could most likely prove permanently fatal but his stomach was no better than Sam's at the moment. It felt like knives were being plunged in to every part of his insides, tearing them to shreds with its sharp edges and pointy end. He had his self to blame for that.

He took a deep breath. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, he closed his eyes and relaxed. He listened to the soft snores coming from the side of the room and focused on that. Sam was alive. He was breathing and he was right there where he belonged. Safe, in Dean's careful watching eyes. Alive...

He couldn't stop the dark oblivion that swarmed around him as it, too, sunk its claws in him and tore him from reality and into a nightmare.

•••Supernatural•••

Sam wasn't sure what woke him. He just knew that there was a disturbance in the air. A shifting in the atmosphere that drug his sleep absorbed mind out of sleep and alert in seconds.

He blinked several times before sitting up, trying to clear the rest of sleep out of his eyes. The room was dark, save for the small portion of light illuminating from the slightly opened door of the bathroom. No doubt his brother left the light on in case either of them had to get up in the dead of night to take a leak. It was often reason enough to make sure they didn't stumble over their own belongings to get to the bathroom. Which if Sam remembered, happened to him once before. Dean never let him live that one down because it knocked Dean out of sleep after Sam face planted with a loud thud onto the floor after tripping over the bags.

Dean laughed, Sam called him a jerk and Dean responded with, "Don't worry, Sammy. I'll leave the light on from now on so you don't damage that pretty face, princess."

Princess was a taunt Dean liked to use to get on Sam's nerves. It worked. Sammy was embarrassing, but princess was downright humiliating.

He looked around the room but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He shrugged and was about to lay back down, deciding it was just his imagination, when a small noise caught his attention and had him focusing his attention towards his brothers bed.

After a few seconds of waiting he heard it again. A small, hardly noticeable whimper. Sam immediately went for the bed side lamp to switch it on, hissing when he twisted to far and caused the stitches to jerk. He ignored it and the room was soon bathed in harsh light which caused Sam to slam his eyes shut unwanted penetration, only opening them after the dots cleared from his vision.

"No..."

Sam's breath hitched at Dean's low voice calling out in a almost like whisper. He was out of the bed instantly, swinging his long legs around until they planted firmly on the ground. Standing up, he was at Dean's side in three large strides.

What he saw broke his heart.

Dean was having a nightmare.

Dean had the cover pulled half way up his frame with his hand laid over his chest but it wasn't flat, instead gripping the covers with more force than necessary. Dean's mouth was opened and he was panting. His eyes were clenched tightly together, his brows drawn together almost like in confusion but Sam could see the sweat glistening on Dean's pale skin. His body was tense as he turned his head from side to side. Sam could see the strained muscles in his neck at the effort.

Sam hasn't seen Dean have a nightmare since the Mark Of Cain. He could remember it in full detail. Dean's loud voice was filled with horror as it traveled down the corridor and to his room. Sam jerked awake as it entered his hearing and the fear he felt was immediate as he raced down the hall, gun drawn out in front of him, ready to shoot whatever was causing Dean so much pain. He didn't expect to reach Dean's room only to see him caught in a nightmare. One that was intense and had his brother frantically calling out two words, 'Sam,' and 'no.'

He didn't wake his brother. He knew why Dean was having them. It wasn't hard to figure out, with the mark of Cain fueling them along with Dean's sudden thirst to kill. He hated not being able to help Dean but he also knew that waking Dean from a often had its consequences. Though it knocked him out of whatever hell dream he was in, Dean would wake up swinging before he realized he was back in reality.

Sam wasn't sure if he should wake him now, either.

Dean continued to jerk and move restlessly in his sleep.

•••Supernatural•••

 _Dean found himself back at the cabin. He was standing outside of the building. The only difference was he wasn't where he was during the time before, building a litter for Sam. Instead he was facing one of the windows of the cabin. The light from the lit lanterns were shinning strong and bright casting their glow in every corner of the walls along with peering out of the windows like a light from a regular house._

 _He had to shake his head to clear out the fog in his head. Why was he...?_

 _"He won't leave you.."_

 _Dean's trail of thought vanished as the voice registered in his mind. Like a gun's safety clicking into place, except that meant safe, but what went through Dean's veins was white hot rage. It was dangerous._

 _Corbin._

 _"Son of a..." Dean muttered as he walked over to the door, ready to enter the cabin and stop Corbin from even going near Sam but found as he tried turning the knob that the door wouldn't budge. "What the hell?"_

 _There was a thud and Dean's head snapped up. He banged a fist on the door, hitting it so hard the hinges rattled in protest. Panic was eating every other sense. "Sam! Sammy! Leave him alone you son of bitch!"_

 _There was grunting and what sounded like struggling. Dean ran over to the window and what he saw made his blood run cold and his anger go up full throttle._

 _Sam was sprawled out on his back. His expression pained and panicked as he struggled to breath. Breath because Corbin was pinning him to the floor with one hand over his mouth and the other on his nose. Cutting off Sam's air, his need to breath._

 _"Stop!" Dean's voice shook as he yelled and pleaded but neither Corbin or Sam seemed to know he was there._

 _Sam's eyes rolled up into his head as the last bit of strength left him and his body just went limp. His hand that had attempted to pry off Corbin's arm fell to the ground uselessly at his side. The life completely drained from him._

 _Dean's eyes widened in complete shock. His body started to shake and sound was torn from his throat as the despair hit him like a freight train. The amount of emotion coming out of him was a lot similar to that one moment back at cold oak. "Noooooo!"_

•••Supernatural•••

Sam watched helplessly as Dean's body jerked violently. The moment his brother let out a heart breaking sob was when Sam couldn't take it anymore. He had to wake him up and get him out of whatever hell Dean was in.

"Dean! Wake up!" Sam gripped both of Dean's shoulders and shook in an attempt to bring his brother out of the nightmares hold.

"Sam!" Dean screamed his name with so much force Sam thought he was going to reel back from the sheer emotion.

"Dammit Dean." Sam mumbled but not out of annoyance but from realization, out of worry.

Sam got onto the bed and raised Dean up until he was leaning against Sam's chest. Sam's arms circled around him and he held him close. He could feel Dean's body tremble against him and he tightened his hold. Dean's head jerked to the side, his brows were drawn together, fully lost in hellish nightmare that refused to let go. "Dean, hey! I'm here. I'm right here!" He said in a whisper against Dean's ear, hoping his voice would reach Dean' subconscious.

"...'ammy." Dean mumbled brokenly, his tone low but so loud in Sam's ear.

"Dean! I'm right here!" Sam tapped Dean's face a few times to try and rouse him. When that got no response he slapped a little harder.

That did it.

Dean's body jerked and he woke with a start. He was sitting up so fast his head spun, at least that was what would have happened if not from something strong and firm holding him in place and stopping him from moving. His heart beat frantically in his chest as he still felt the absolute terror of the dream. A dream, that's all it was.

"Dean?" Sam's concerned voice came from behind him and realized what, who it was that was holding him in place.

He couldn't help the sigh of relief at hearing his brother speak. It made the nightmare a little less real seeing his brother there in front of him, or in this case holding him. He couldn't help the smart ass comment. "Sorry Sam, gotta buy me dinner first." His voice cracked a little.

He felt movement and the next thing he knew he was being turned around and brought into Sam's strong arms before he could protest.

"Shut up, Dean. Just, shut up." Sam's voice was low as he tightened his hold.

Dean wanted to push Sam away, tell him to quit being such a girl but he found he couldn't. He let Sam comfort him by just embracing him. Dean found his own comfort in that as well because he could feel the warmth of Sam's arms around him. It meant that Sam wasn't gone but right where he was suppose to be and he wasn't going to deny either of them that. So he listened as Sam continued to speak soothing words of comfort.

"I'm right here Dean. It's okay."

For some reason Dean found himself getting tired again. He couldn't keep his eyes open. Maybe it was the reassurance of Sam being there that kept the nightmare away but, he didn't see it again.

He will never admit that he fell asleep in Sam's protective hold.


End file.
